


Spin Spin Sugar

by orphan_account



Category: Wizards of Waverly Place
Genre: Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Play Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Turnabout is fair play (and they're only playing).Set right after season 1 episode 12, "Justin's Little Sister."





	Spin Spin Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Spin Spin Sugar (livejournal)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/419207) by Amathela. 
  * Inspired by [Spin Spin Sugar (dreamwidth)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/419210) by Amathela. 



> This fic was written by the wonderfully talented Amathela.
> 
> I am reposting it here on AO3 without permission, because it's my favorite Jalex fic ever and it deserves to be preserved and appreciated.

"Get off me!" Justin says. Or at least, that's what Alex thinks he says. It comes out mostly like gibberish, his voice muffled by the couch, but considering she's sitting on top of him, it's probably a fair guess.

Not that it means she's going to admit she understood him.

"What's that?" she asks, feigning ignorance. She bounces up and down a little, too, for good measure, and maybe it's a little cruel, but cruelty to siblings (okay, mostly cruelty to Justin) has always kind of been her specialty. Anyway, he's the one who started it, and it's not her fault if she panicked a little when everybody forgot who Justin was and then she made him disappear, because seriously, who could have seen Max's solution coming?

Justin rolls over underneath her, and it's all Alex can do to stay upright, grabbing onto the back of the couch to keep her balance. She isn't exactly comfortable, even with the pillow separating them, and maybe that's distracting her a little; when he grabs the pillow, yanking it out from underneath her, she goes tumbling to the side a little, which is apparently all the leverage he needs.

He hits her with the pillow a couple of times, and she doesn't care if turnabout is fair play, because it turns out pillow fights are really annoying when you're losing. She tries to catch the pillow, but Justin is being really annoying about it (can't he just stop hitting her for two seconds so she can beat him?), so she grabs his arm instead, pulling him down onto her so neither of them can really move. It takes all her strength to hold onto him—and it's not like he's stronger than her or anything, but he's on top, which gives him an advantage, plus he's a lot bigger than her—so she starts kicking at his legs instead. Which seems to work for a little while, and she can definitely hear Justin yelp in pain, but then he figures that out, too, and works his legs in between hers so she's mostly trapped.

Which is really, really not fair. She tries pouting a little, like he's hurting her or whatever, but he just gets this grin on his face, like he knows he's winning, and he knows she's faking. Which, damn. Maybe she's pulled that one a few too many times.

"Give in?" he asks. If it's possible, his smile gets even more smug.

She sticks her tongue out instead of answering him. If they're going to have pillow fights and stupid wrestling matches, there's no reason she can't be childish.

He raises an eyebrow, like it was a challenge (and okay, yeah, it totally was), and then he rips his arm away from her grasp, trailing it down her side. It tickles, and she wriggles a little, trying to make him stop, but then he gets to that spot just under her ribs, and suddenly she's laughing in a way that she hasn't since the last time they did this.

(Which is when she was eight, for the record. She thinks Justin must really be desperate to sink to this, but if that's supposed to make her feel like she has the upper hand, the message definitely isn't getting to her brain.)

"How about now?" he asks, and she shakes her head, but it feels like the movement gets lost somewhere in all the thrashing around she's doing to try to get him to stop. And, okay, giving in would probably do the trick, but there's no way she's letting him win.

"You are so dead," she says instead, and it's tough to get the words out in between peals of laughter.

"I'll take that as a no," he says, and starts tickling her even harder, until her lungs are burning and she can barely breathe. As soon as this is over, she thinks, she is so getting even.

After a minute, he lets up a little, and she seizes the opportunity to try to push him off, but all she really succeeds in doing is making the arm of the couch dig into her back. So she wriggles further down the couch a little, trying to find a more comfortable position, and Justin sucks in a breath, his hands going still on her waist. She wonders, for a moment, if she hurt him (score one for her), but then she takes stock of the situation, and—

Oh. _Oh._

She moves her hips again, just to be sure, and now she can definitely feel it, something hard (like his wand, she thinks, and she has to bite her lip before she starts laughing again, because in any other situation that'd be hilarious) pressing against her hip. Justin's hips jerk, digging down into her, and she jerks up in response, and it's just a reflex, really, because it's not like—

It's not like she's attracted to her own brother, and just, no. But she rolls the thought around in her head a little, and it doesn't feel exactly the way she expected it to. Like, she's pretty sure that this is the point where any normal person would be freaking out, but she's just... not. Her mouth is dry, and her head is kind of spinning a little, but none of that feels like she's panicking, even if she's pretty sure she should be.

Plus, she kind of likes knowing she can do this to him—to anyone, but especially to him, because they've been messing with each other their entire lives, and maybe this is just another, really weird, extension of that.

"Alex," he says, and—

"Give in?" she asks, because this is a game, just a game, and he can't flip out on her now and leave her alone and feeling like a freak. Because she's not the only one still lying here, and it isn't just her, it can't be.

She tilts her head, like it's a challenge, and Justin responds the way she knew he would, the way he always does, and fights back. He starts tickling her again, lightly, and this time when she wriggles beneath him, it feels... good. Like really, really good, and she's pretty sure it feels good for Justin, too, because he's breathing a lot quicker, now, and focusing less on tickling her than on moving her hands above her head, tilting his hips so that her legs wrap halfway around his waist. He's still tickling her with one hand—kind of halfheartedly, but he knows exactly where she's ticklish, so it's not like he has to try very hard—while the other closes around her wrist, and she's honestly not sure if she's still struggling because she's trying to win, or because of something else entirely.

(And, okay, maybe she knows exactly what she's doing, but she's trying not to think about that too hard.)

She needs more friction, she thinks, because the throbbing in between her legs kind of isn't going anywhere, and she struggles a little harder, trying to free up one of her hands—to touch him, or to touch herself, and she isn't sure if it even matters any more. Justin's hips jerk again, and then he stills on top of her. Not even like he stops moving, but like he's perfectly, completely frozen, and if she didn't know better, she'd swear she accidentally used magic to make time stop.

And she doesn't know what happened, like if he suddenly changed his mind or whatever, but then he's pulling away away from her, his face bright red, and, okay, she's pretty sure she knows exactly what happened.

Which is... embarrassing. Kind of mortifying, actually, but probably more for Justin than for her, and for a moment it seems like he's stuck between wanting to bolt and not really being able to move at all. Then he sinks back down onto her, almost gingerly, and she can actually feel the patch that's wet and a little sticky on his pyjamas. Probably on hers, too, and she thinks she's definitely going to have to remember to do her own laundry this time.

"Sorry," he says, so quietly she almost doesn't hear him, and she wants to tell him it doesn't matter, she doesn't mind, only she does mind, a little. But Justin looks way more embarrassed than she feels, so she kind of tangles her fingers in his, and tries not to think about all the ways in which this was probably a supremely bad idea, or about how his hand is really sweaty and kind of gross (because really, it's not like getting a few more of his bodily fluids on her is really going to matter at this point).

Except her legs are starting to cramp up a little, and she's only just starting to notice that Justin is really heavy. And now that they're no longer moving, it's kind of really awkward.

"We should," she says, and shifts underneath him. Justin sits up, letting her go, and she's really glad she didn't have to finish that sentence. Because talking about it would mean having to acknowledge that it actually happened, and she's fine with that, she thinks, but maybe not just yet. (Maybe not ever, but, you know. Definitely not right now.)

She stands up, adjusting her clothes a bit, but then Justin grabs her hand, pulling her back down to him. She lets him, because she's really not sure what she's supposed to be doing right now but it feels good to let him take the lead, and he tugs her down until she's half-sitting in his lap. He doesn't kiss her or anything (and what's the protocol on that, exactly, like is it required, or would it make things even weirder?), but he bumps his forehead lightly against hers, and she smiles, even though he can't see her.

"Sorry," he says again, but at least this time he doesn't sound like he's about to go throw himself off the balcony. Which is probably a good thing. (Even if she may have wished for that a couple of times. Right now, she's sick of her wishes coming true, anyway.) His arm snakes out around her waist, squeezing her gently, and for a minute, Alex thinks she never, ever wants to move.

Which is ridiculous, because no way could she stand being this close to Justin for the rest of her life, but whatever, it's a nice thought.

"I totally won," she says, because it's better than getting all mushy and talking about her feelings or whatever, and Justin raises an eyebrow at her, like he's temporarily forgotten about all the weirdness.

"You sure about that?" he asks, and she nods, twisting away from him and moving until she's kind of straddling him.

"Please. I kicked your ass."

And then he gets a look in his eyes that's part challenge and part something else she isn't bothering to identify, and he asks, "Want a rematch?"

And she thinks that, yeah, maybe she does.


End file.
